


various storms and saints

by melliesgrant



Category: The Society (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, F/M, aka this is what the show would be if i had written it, also im just getting into writing again so sorry its bad!!!, ch 1 just sets up what the first ep did and her crush, follows s1 canon but with changes if allie had always liked harry, nah, unbeta or whatevs i don't edit cuz rereading my own writing?, will there be a happy ending? gotta wait for s2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-05-20 15:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19379263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melliesgrant/pseuds/melliesgrant
Summary: allie pressman knows it’s a betrayal to have a crush on harry bingham, but she can’t help it.





	1. but you took your toll on me (so i gave myself over willingly)

**Author's Note:**

> hi everybody in case you didn't read the tags here's some quick lil warnings!!  
> the first chap isn't gonna be as good as the rest of the fic, it's more of a set up for her crush and following the first ep, the rest of the fic is gonna have way more of them interacting and new stuff that's not from the show so hold out for me!!

she’d never admit it, but allie always knew harry was someone she could fall in love with.

she could fall in love with him the way she falls in line with whatever cassandra says, with ease, no questions asked. 

yet between the two one trumps the other, cassandra’s unspoken orders like a thin line between what could be (and the fact that she wonders if he even knew her as anything more than her sisters shadow).

allie can picture it so perfectly in her head, how horrible it would be. they would be like some goddamn romeo and juliet tragedy, forbidden lovers, no happy ending in sight. unlike romeo and juliet it’s completely one sided, and she feels like such a cliche for it. having some weird crush on  _of course_ the most popular boy in school who is also the most unattainable. hands clasped with kelly’s every day, his character slandered by her sister, and his eyes never meeting her own unless as a glance to see who was lurking behind cassandra.

she tries to tell herself that’s why she likes him, just because she can’t have him. not to mention she doesn’t really know him, just what she hears from others, but in her mind she can paint the romanticized version of him. her modern day romeo with curly black hair and a sports car to match. the one person that might like her over her sister, who might throw rocks at her window late at night and sneak in just because he missed her. these are the thoughts she has before she falls asleep, daydreaming of some other world where it was true, where her heart didn’t beat with guilt when she looked at him.

but it’s easier to hate harry bingham, or at least pretend to. it’s easy to go along with her sister and her friends, to roll her eyes at his comments and add on to their groups rants about him. it’s easier to comfort cassandra when he does something without her knowing about her little crush, it’s easier to avoid him like the plague then let him see what weird hold he has over her. 

she resigns herself to stolen glances instead, memorizing his smile in her head and trying to feel the warmth radiating off his brown eyes. they’re comforting in some weird way, but she doesn’t let herself take the time to think why because that’ll go too far. 

-

cassandra’s ranting about him, laying on allie’s bed as she finishes up her math homework. she’s only half listening, one last problem to do and everything cassandra’s said she’s heard before. she finds it almost funny, how cassandra views harry. she makes him this flawed character, no redeeming qualities, she makes him out to be the bad guy. allie, on the other hand, sees him so differently. it’s almost irritating in a way, that she can see his flaws so clearly, and yet can’t help but think he’s perfect. somehow those flaws make him more perfect, and maybe her biggest flaw is that she’s dumb enough to believe that.

“i’m sorry, i’m annoying you.” cassandra breaks her stream of words about harry with this, something that makes allie bring her head up from looking down at her work.  


she shakes her head with a smile, unconvincing, saying something else is on her mind. “not at all, just trying to figure out this problem. i’m listening though, you can keep talking.”

cassandra turns onto her stomach, lifting herself half up to get a better look at allie, to show the conversation is real now. “i’ve barely seen you move your pencil, your mind is on something else. what are you thinking about?”

allie tries to laugh, tries to seem like cassandra is ridiculous for thinking that, that she’s completely wrong. neither of them buys it. “i’m not, i’ve just been trying to think through this. i can’t write if i’m still trying to figure out how to solve it.”

cassandra tilts her head, the knowing look in her eye calling bullshit on her words. “is this about will?” she asks, throwing allie in for a loop.

her reactions are now genuine, the shock in her eyes and confusion real, though cassandra can’t detect that. she still thinks she’s hiding something, pretending. 

“what about will?” is all allie can ask, unsure what her sister is even insinuating.  


cassandra scoots up to sit next to her, fully serious, almost like a mom having  _the talk_. “that you like him? no offense allie, but it’s pretty obvious.”

allie scoffs at the accusation, surprised that her sister who she always thought was a genius could get it so wrong. maybe she should’ve been the actor of the family, it seems she pulls it off well. 

“i don’t like him, like  _at all_. he’s my best friend, that’s it.” she insists, already knowing her sister won’t believe her.  


she always seems to have that look, that  _cassandra_ look, that look where she tries so hard not to come off condescending as it says  _“i know more than you”_. she can’t begrudge her for that, because a lot of the time it’s true. cassandra knows more than most, she’s an old soul, but this just proved she wasn’t always right.

“allie, you don’t need to lie to me. you know i can keep a secret. i’ve had a feeling you’ve liked someone for a while, and i see the way you look at will.”  


she couldn’t be further from the truth, her observations pointing in the wrong places, missing the way her eyes stayed glued to will so as not to look at harry, the way she always angled herself to be able to get a glimpse of the dark haired knight surrounded by what seemed to be his little fan club in school.

she had her little crew with her sister, a loyal bunch that worked out well for them. he, on the other hand, was friends with all. the most desirable boy in the school, irresistible, even to her.

maybe this was better, cassandra’s  _wrong_ assumption. it was easier for her to think she liked the wrong boy, easier to keep a secret with a lie. she knew it was a slippery slope, it would bite her in the ass one day, but for now she would take the easy solution rather than admit the horrid truth. her sister wouldn’t be mad if she knew some twisted part of her had a crush on harry bingham, she’d nod her head out of support and say something along the lines of  _‘i understand’._ yet she also knew that behind her kind words there would be another look in her eyes, that silent disappointment, that quiet betrayal.

so she lied, took the easy way out, protecting herself and others from the truth she hated to admit. “okay, you’re right.” she started, trying to take acting notes from cassandra’s time in school plays. “i may have a  _tiny_ crush on will, but don’t say anything! i don’t want to pursue it or anything. i’m just gonna try to get over it and be friends like normal.”

she felt a pang of guilt in her stomach, she never lied to her sister, never kept secrets. if anything this just proved how bad harry bingham was for her, how wrong her crush was for him. can she really blame him though? the boy who barely knew her?

in this scenario, maybe she was the bad guy, no one else to put the blame on but herself.

“you should tell him how you feel.” cassandra tries to convince her as if she doesn’t already know he has a crush on kelly. allie almost laughs audibly, the thought of it. she thinks she likes will, who likes kelly, who is dating harry, the boy she really likes. it’s too twisted, and she has to bite her lip before it slips out. 

she shakes her head, trying to dismiss her sisters offerings. she smiles at her in a way that tells cassandra to stop talking about it, her eyes begging. “let me finish my homework and after i’ll run lines with you. want to make sure your last performance is the best.”

cassandra gets up and off her bed, nodding in agreement and thanks as she walks towards the door, giving her one last look before she leaves.

for the first time in her entire life, allie pressman realizes her sister isn’t as smart as she thought she was.

-

she stands in the wings of the stage, earpiece in and on in case they call her for something, but she takes whatever moments she can to watch the play. 

she’s seen it so many times, listened to cassandra practice and even helped her, yet she doesn’t get tired of it. seeing her sister on the stage, her talent on display for all, looking almost angelic as the lights shine through her golden blonde hair.

and then he’s there, dark hair and eyes tempting her and making him look like lucifer morningstar next to the jesus figure of her sister. isn’t that what they always say, that satan was the most beautiful angel? that he was perfect?

yet they stand there, side by side, almost mocking her.

it’s a wonder cassandra was the actress of the family, considering how dramatic allie was. 

she gets called back to work, glad for the distraction.

allie wonders if she’s a masochist, that must be the only explanation for this crush, and for the torture she gives herself with these self indulgent glances and thoughts angled towards him. 

she doesn’t get to watch the end bows, the way everyone cheers, the way the seniors cry at their last show in high school all together. she’s busy compiling her stuff, ready to leave, collecting cassandra’s flowers that are overflowing off her section of the room. their house is already a weird concoction of scents, roses mixed with lilacs, daisys and chrysanthemums, flooding her senses whenever she walks through the door. 

despite that she’s ready to go home, exhausted, wanting to sleep off the over indulgence of harry she’s had during this play. when she’s here it’s him who floods her senses, his voice echoing through the auditorium as she says his lines, running around back stage distracting her from her work. she yells at him a few times, tells him to quiet down, to stop being so rowdy. she doesn’t even get anything in response. she isn’t cassandra, where they bicker and fight, she isn’t even worth that. who would talk to a shadow? who would listen to the whining voice nagging at you to stop your fun? she feels like a little boy, tugging on his crushes pigtails to get her attention. the only way she gets to talk to harry bingham is to be mean to him, and she takes what she can get.

once cassandra is dressed they begin to leave, walking down the aisle and allie feels like she walks in slow motion as she looks at him. surrounded by his friends, they hang onto every word he says, and she wishes it was her standing in kelly’s place instead. 

they’re talking about a party, and the usual bickering begins (with her adding into it coming to her sisters defense of course). she shakes her head and walks away, following her sisters lead, staring at her feet so as not to stare at him

she’s never been to a party, especially not one of harry’s. cassandra hates to go, and so do all her friends. she pretends to agree with them at their claims, their disapproving tones as they talk about how ridiculous it is, how boring it is to watch their classmates get drunk. but a part of her wants to take up kelly’s offer and go, integrate herself into another world, another life. see him in his true element, paint a new picture of him in her head.

but she goes home instead, falling asleep to the smell of lavender, and thinking of his dark eyes.

- 

she waves goodbye to her parents as she boards the bus, taking a seat next to her best friend and ‘crush’, and hates how much of a teenage girl she is.

her eyes keep flitting over to harry and kelly, cuddling and whispering in each others ears. she hates these feelings inside of her, the pain and jealousy that bubbles in her stomach and she knows how ridiculous it is to be hurt by a boy you have no real relation to.

she bites her tongue and eats that pain, but gets caught staring, and yet everyone in her life is still none the wiser.

“you know i caught them during the play.” will starts, whispering to her and cassandra, bringing her eyes back to them rather than the couple.  


“what?” she asks, only half hearing what he had said.  


“i caught them in her dressing room, with his head under her skirt.” will shares silently to them, and all allie can do is look at her palms, empty and facing up.  


cassandra shakes her head at that, leaning in to whisper back. “they can’t keep their hands off each other, i had to stop them from making out so we could actually perform the play. it’s annoying, but what can we expect?”

when allie looks up it’s now will who is staring at them, his own jealousy showing now. she hoped she wasn’t as obvious as him, because when she looked in his eyes she could see it all. every thought, every emotion, and how deeply it mirrored her own. 

it seemed the two of them were destined for that pain, for that wallowing of choosing someone you can’t have. at least kelly was nice. at least kelly was good. harry was bad, and just looking at him made allie feel like she had sinned.

they both stare at what can not be reached, a ridiculous high school tragedy, and when they can’t handle it anymore they resign themselves to sleep.

allie is still half asleep when the bus comes to a stop, struggling to open her eyes and take in her surroundings. once she does all she can hear is the grouped murmur of everyone’s tired voices whispering to each other, looking around and seeing equally confused looks on everyone's face.

she does what she thinks is only logical, turns to cassandra for answers. “what’s going on?”

her sister rubs her eyes and begins to stand up, grabbing her things. “something happened and they turned back around, we’re home.”

she’s too tired to voice her confusion, just nods her head and follows everybody off the bus.

she’s never seen her town so empty, so dead, and yet so alive. it felt like the town itself was an entity, breathing, like they weren’t as alone as they thought as they all walked home, clueless to what awaited them and their future.

she turns her head to give one last glance at everyone, feeling as if she will turn around and see their parents standing there waiting for them.

instead, she sees him walk away, with kelly in his arms.

she turns around, fast.

they’re not home for long before cassandra takes the role of leader and calls them all back to where they began, and as her loyal sidekick allie stands by her side. she tries to rationalize everything, figure things out, yet everyone can see how unsure she is. allie can see how unsure she is, and seeing her sister unsure scares her. if cassandra doesn’t have the answers, something is seriously wrong.

so few people listen to her advice and go home, everyone else taking advantage of the situation ahead of them. no adults? no one watching to see them raid the liquor store? it’s a perfect opportunity. 

as clark announces their impromptu party cassandra rolls her eyes, begins to walk away, expecting allie to follow behind. she doesn’t she stands where she is, watching as they chug their beer and open the doors to the church.

“are you coming?” cassandra asks, pausing when she realizes allie isn’t with her, staring with her arms crossed.  


allie looks between the two, her sister and the crowd. what she’s always been versus what she’s always wanted to be. her heart beats at the unsaid ultimatum, the opportunity to be another version of herself for just the night, to go against her sister for once. her eyes flitter between her options, and that’s why she sees him.

it’s like the world is in slow motion as he walks through the doors of the church, watching the sacrilege of a fallen angel passing the doors of god. the church now an unholy place, holding all the sins of the world, the doors pandora’s box open and released.  _walk through and sin with me_ , it calls, his body disappearing in the crowd,  _come find me_.

she doesn’t look away when she answers her sister, “i’ll see you at home.”

she walks away before she can see her sisters reaction, but as she nears the church she can still feel her eyes on her, watching her step out of her shadow for even a night.

- 

she wakes up the next morning with a pounding head, her first ever hangover. she got drunk, too drunk, but not shitfaced like the rest. she remembers what happens, the chaos of the church, teens rising to their full reckless potential.

she remembers keeping an eye on him, waiting for the right moment to use her liquid courage and talk to him. she knows he’s in a relationship, she wouldn’t have tried anything, she just wanted to  _talk_. say she talked to harry bingham with no malice, no snippy tone and backhanded compliment. she wanted to talk to him the way she always hoped to one day, like that invisible line between them wasn’t real. like they were equals, friends, like he knew she was someone he could fall in love with as well. 

he was drunk too, maybe he wouldn’t even question why she was talking to him. she told herself this in a weird motivator, trying to get herself ready, smiling as she watched him laugh with his friends and how simple his life must be. it must be perfect to be harry bingham, it must be so easy.

her fantasy quickly came crashing down, watching his hands brush against another girl's tits, his girlfriend starting a fight, and allie is filled with the cold reminder that she is an outsider. she is not meant to be here, and that she’s an idiot to even think about talking to him. what did she expect, tonight to be one way then go back to pretending to hate him? hide it from cassandra forever? she started to feel sick, and with everyone either already home or partying in the church, she walked home alone and cold and cursing the world around her for making these feelings even more needlessly complicated.

she really hated being a teenager, and she hated everything that came with being  _allie pressman_. the weight of being a shadow held hard and trying to step out from there threatened to break her back.

her duty as a sidekick never stops, quickly getting ready to follow cassandra on the job of figuring out whatever the fuck is going on, which it seemed involved more of harry than she expected. 

it was almost as if he was just there to fight with cassandra and to tempt allie, to add an extra weight on her, to make her question her common sense more.

a small group of them gets together at what seems to be the edge of the world, or their world at least, trying to figure out what’s going on and how to solve it. she stays silent, that’s what her job is. she stays silent unless cassandra needs her to speak, and only then it’s too agree with her.

she doesn’t know if cassandra knows that she does this, that she puts this secret command on her keeping her in check of where she falls on the totem pole. yet allie can never be mad at her sister, she can’t blame her either, she was always so happy to take that role. she was always happy just to be in her presence, call her sister her best friend. she cast herself in the role, never taking the time to break out of it, now trapped like a prisoner. she was tired of this role, she was tired of the bars, she wanted out, but she didn’t know how.

“i’m leaving.” harry starts, interrupting the flow of conversation, dismissing the importance of it. “i’m hungry.”  


allie can’t help but get up, stand on equal ground to him. in everyone’s eyes this is her doing cassandras bidding, not realizing this is for completely selfish purposes. “you’re leaving?” she calls out, her tone comes off rude, masking the true meaning.  _i’m scared. we need you. please don’t go_. 

he responds back as if she is cassandra, cold and unkind, yet she wonders if this is the first time he’s really talked to her. even he can’t see, but why would she expect him to? she had mastered her role to perfection, no one can see past it, even as her eyes beg him to see the truth.

he leaves anyway, he’s always leaving. she’s starting to get pretty good at it too.

-

they’re all in the church, and it’s so different than the night before. the night before was controlled chaos, fun, what felt like the best of the situation. this night is the worst of the situation, the fear and frustration, the realization that things aren’t as fine as they thought.

they all unofficially sit in their places of importance, the ones in charge, the ones with some weird power are on the altar. the royalty of the school, the saints and sinners sitting on their miniature kingdom over their people. she knows her place, she sits in a pew with everyone else, despite it all she has not earned her spot yet. despite cassandra being her sister she is still just on the outside looking in.

harry and cassandra are up there like it’s just another stage for them to perform on, and she watches them like it is, or more specifically him. she can’t help but stare, unable to take his eyes off him as he looks at the floor, his black curls hiding his eyes from her. she thinks it’s for the best, the eyes are too much, the window to the soul. she isn’t ready for that yet, her heart already pounding too much in her chest just looking at him.

when he fights back to her sister subtly she looks away, a deep shame washing over her, her once beating heart stopping dead in its tracks. she can’t believe herself, feeling as if having this crush was a betrayal to herself.

then it all happens too quickly, further proof that this world is so far from their own. the gunshot echoing in the church, the gun pointed at cassandra, and before she can even think she runs over to protect her.

allie knows how important her sister is to keeping chaos from arising, and she’s willing to sacrifice herself to protect her. they hold onto each other out of fear, and allie still hasn’t fully processed it all. it’s too much at once, it’s too horrific, and it’s just the start.

campbell makes his statement, practically begging for chaos and anarchy, already proving to be a threat. and yet that’s not what hurts the most, what hurts the most is when she sees who stands at his offer.

harry has never been so close to her, they’ve never stood in such close proximity. she can see the details of his face, the loose curls out of place, the tiny scar on his face she never noticed before. 

as he looks to stare down at cassandra he catches her eye, and even that’s too much. black eyes meet blue, and she has to turn away before she screams at the overwhelming emotions. why did she choose him? why is he the way he is?

allie thinks this is what will plague her mind that night, then something worse comes crashing through those doors.

they are stuck here, this world is not their own, there is a dead girl meant to be buried tomorrow.

yet when she sleeps her mind lingers on one thing, replaying it over and over in her mind. 

she jumped in front of the gun, she risked her life.

maybe she could be the heroine after all.


	2. you saw the stars out in front of you (too tempting not to touch)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was originally supposed to be ep 2 and 3 but just w ep 2 it got to 6k words so i cut them in half whoops

all work and no play makes allie a dull girl.

it’s been ten days, a little over a week, and she’s already restless. everyone is scared, there seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel and that becomes more apparent every day. yet they all handle it differently, some go to the church to pray, some are on the field praying to some other god. most party, taking advantage of the lack of parents. they can fuck without worrying about sneaking around, break into their parents liquor cabinet with no consequences, smoke in broad daylight.

cassandra shakes her head when she sees this, like a mother looking down at disappointment at her child who is now too grown to boss around. there is nothing she can do but sit and watch, and leave when it gets to be too much. she thinks they should start working, start figuring things out, gather and work together.

allie gets it, she sees the appeal. it’s numbing, it’s distracting, it’s what too many of them need. never prepared for the real world, never prepared to be alone, they don’t know what to do without the guides set for them so long ago. they’re too proud to admit they’re scared, so they show their fear in a bottle of hennessy and a blunt, and apart of her is jealous of them.

she doesn’t smoke, drugs are a big no for her, but she doesn’t mind a drink. the liberation of getting drunk, forgetting the world for awhile, the only pain you know is when you throw it all up. sometimes she’d prefer that pain, revel in that pain, it’s more bearable than the life she’s currently living.

she wishes it were that simple, that she could drink her life away with the rest, laugh it off and not worry so much. but that’s not who she is, rather that’s not who her friends are. they want to talk it all through, spend every second working. you do research, and you clean, and you count food. others keep busy with fun, they keep busy with work.

she understands why, it’s necessary, but she’s growing antsy. she feels cornered in a cage, trapped in this one dimensional version of who she is supposed to be. she wants to be more, she wants to be work and fun, she wants to be more than a carbon copy of her sister and what her friends expect of her.

maybe that’s why she leaves early, quitting her job halfway through the day. she did the minimum expected of her, hours still ahead to do more, but she stopped. she can’t waste her life away counting food and worrying about their future, which now doesn’t seem so bright.

she walks in the middle of the road, a threat to the gods that if what she’s doing is wrong they’ll strike her down, have a car run through and hit her. she walks on that yellow line separating the street, refusing to be just on one side. she wants to walk the line, she wants to have a foot in both worlds, refusing to let them tell her who she is supposed to be.

and like some sick joke, all roads lead to harry bingham.

he stands there like a god amongst men, like everything that is happening has no affect on him. he stands there like he’s running the game and they just don’t know it yet.

maybe this was the gods message instead, a sign to follow her instincts. she deserves some fun, and who represents fun more than harry bingham?

“you planning a trip?” she asks, admiring the way he leaned on his car as the gas flowed into it.  


he turned around and it almost took her breath away, and she wondered if this was the first time he’s ever really looked at her. just her, not her behind cassandra’s shoulder, but her alone and as her own person.

she can feel how uncomfortable he is, taking a minute to process that she’s talking to him, and without a biting word. he looks like he’s trying to figure out what to say, if he should play nice or use her as a vessel to get his anger at cassandra out.

he seems conflicted, almost as much as she is.

“a weekend jaunt to the coast.” so he decides to play nice, but she can tell he doesn’t know why. he gives her a thin lipped smile, turning around so she can only see the outline of his face, no longer looking at her, as if she isn’t worthy to get the full view. as if he wants it to end, for her to go away. 

“it’s a nice town but it can get old pretty fast.” she continues to walk as she talks, not stopping for him, trying to show he isn’t worthy of her attention either.  


he hums in agreement, and she thinks that’s it. that’s all she’s gonna get from him, because one brief conversation can’t erase years of rivalry that she’s been a back seat driver to through him and her sister. it’s better than nothing, and she savors even that, their little secret.

“we’re playing fugitive tonight.” he adds, not fully leaving her in the dust as to why he was there. this time it’s her turn to hum, a small indication she heard, as she walks away expecting nothing more. “you should come play with us.”  


that stops her dead in her tracks, waiting for someone to pinch her and wake her up from this weird dream. did he really just invite her? she turns around, staring at him and still trying to find the words to say. he continues on. it’ll be big, and there’s a party after. it’s a silent invitation to that too. she wonders if he’s doing this out of obligation, or to piss cassandra off.

but she has a feeling he isn’t, she has a feeling he’s genuine about it.

“you asking me?” she has to make sure, because harry bingham doesn’t ask allie pressman to do these kind of things.   


it is a new world, stranger things have happened.

“you can be my partner, if you want.” he offers, and she wants to wipe that smug look off his face. it does too much to her, the charming way he asks, as if he knows she’s been waiting for this. “i need a look out.”

she wants to say yes, but she isn’t an idiot. she knows why he’s asking her, she knows what’s really on his mind.

she wants to pretend this is some type of dream, where he asks her because he really wants her, because her feelings are returned and he actually  _sees_ her. sees her as more than cassandras sister, more than a  _rebound_.

“she’s in the supermarket...with will.” she’s all honesty, slightly testing him, see what he says. see if he fights for her, if she’s worth it.  


“who?” he asks, and she can’t tell if he genuinely doesn’t know or if he’s in denial, trying not to acknowledge it.  


“the person you asked first.”  


just from the look in his eyes she knows he won’t deny it, and she even feels a little bad for him. harry and kelly had been together for three years, they were the schools power couple.

that was something she appreciated about harry, something that made her like him. he seemed like a player, but he wasn’t. he was loyal, in a long term relationship, always affectionate. he seemed good, good to kelly, like he would be good for her.

part of her wishes it had worked out for them, because she can see in that dark abyss of his eyes the pain he’s trying to swallow and hide. that’s how much she likes him, that he just wants him to be happy, even with another girl.

“i don’t care.” is all he can say, and she knows he cares but she won’t push. she knows what that’s like, pretending to be unbothered, pretending everything is fine. she lives in that realm, but it seems she doesn’t live there alone. “we’re in the same boat, why not the same car?”  


she doesn’t know what he means by that, other than that he’s asking her again. she wants to get into his mind, understand what he is really asking for, why he’s pushing so gently for it to be her. but his eyes are bright, and he’s got a sly smile on his face, no more heartbreak reflecting in him. and he’s looking at her, looking right in her eyes, and her lips quirk up into a smile because this is the most they’ve ever had together. the most they’ve talked, the most they’ve stared, and she knows this energy she’s feeling can’t fully be one sided because it’s like he’s pulling her forward, begging her to come closer and climb in his car and let him show her what his life has to offer.

but her mind always drifts back to cassandra, to what they mean to each other, and to what harry means to her. she can’t forget all of that, she can’t give into him the first time he even talks to her. so she denies him for cassandra, but also for herself. to play hard to get, leave him wanting more, see how serious he is.

“you can’t be an asshole to my sister and then nice to me. it doesn’t work that way.” even as she says this she’s smiling at him, she can’t help it, he brings it out of her. he looks too much like everything she wants and can’t have, the treat parents deny their children when they’ve been bad, the movie star you fall in love with after one movie. he’s too good and too bad, filling up her senses, and she gets why he’s so popular. even without his personality, even without his charm, there’s some part of him that lingers in your mind even after he’s gone. he’s someone you can’t ignore, he’s someone who refuses to be ignored. 

but right now she has the upper hand, or at least she thinks she does, as she walks away from him leaving the answer to his offer up in the air. she will not fall at his feet, she will not be what he wants her to be. she is stronger than his warm gaze and her infatuation for him, she is stronger than anyone knows.

he calls something out one last time as she walks away, almost taunting her. “tell her i said she can come, too.”

this makes her laugh, and makes her heart skip a beat. she knows he means it as some type of joke, but she also knows that’s his way of saying he wants her there, even if it means bringing his nemesis.

when she responds she doesn’t turn around, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing the smile on her face at his words, and not giving herself the satisfaction of seeing his reaction. “you say too many things you don’t mean.” the statement rings true, like a prophecy, neither of them knowing how true or severe it is. right now they are still children, they think the world has crumbled but it hasn’t, not yet, but it will soon.

-

allie is starting to realize her sister isn’t perfect, not like she thought. if anything, she’s more like harry than she think she’d like to admit. maybe that’s why they fight so much, they’re too similar, two sides of the same coin, heads and tails. they look at each other like some dark reflection of what they could be in another life, a version they loathe, and hate themselves more for that than they hate the other.

she realizes this when she’s sitting in bed, a front row seat to the cassandra and gordie show. the way his hand trembles over her breast, listening to her heart that doesn’t beat for him. he’s giving up so much just for her, and cassandra looks completely disinterested as he does it.

it’s finally allie’s turn to give her that disappointed look, to take the high moral ground.

“you totally manipulate him.” she is blunt as she says it, not wanting to beat around the bush, wanting her sister to see clearly what it is she’s accusing her of.   


her sister denies it but with no real fervor, nothing to truly back up her claim. she knows allie is right, but cassandra won’t admit it. she can’t admit that she’s doing something selfish and bad, because if she does then who is she to judge others? won’t that make everything she says about harry hypocritical.

she’s starting to see the truth in these people she’s held so close to her heart. she has a problem, she’s always romanticizing people. puts them in their character type and sticks to that, is blinded to any flaws or any changes to the story in her head. they all have their roles initially, who they would be in the movies of their life. heroine. villain. sidekick.

none of that feels true anymore, and it’s too much for her mind. ten days of thinking and working, of tirelessly trying to figure out what is going on and thinking too much about who these people she is living with are.

she wishes people were more honest, that they would just tell the truth and stop beating around the bush. it feels like everyone gains some weird pleasure in toying with others emotions, knowing they have a grip on someones heart without giving it in return. no one communicates, no one talks, no one says what they want.

it’d all be so much simpler if they were honest, but even just thinking that makes her a hypocrite too.

she is silent because she knows allie is right, and they sit there with their thoughts gone wild and their world shifting around them and trying to adjust.

cassandra leaves when gordie comes calling, and allie knows what that boy is going through and a part of her hates her sister for putting him through that.

she knows because she is going through that right now.

for the first time in ten days she’s home alone. she isn’t used to silence anymore, a part of her can still hear cassandra and becca talking in another room, will laughing at a joke sam made. now she walks through her house alone, empty, silent.

it leaves her alone with her mind, with her thoughts, and she thinks if she stays here another second she’s gonna go mad.

so she does what she has to do, she leaves, and there’s only one place to go.

-

she never thought she’d see harry bingham so excited to see her.

she stand on the side like a angel in hell, asking for a tour, hands in her pockets as she awaits satan himself to lead her down the river acheron.

he almost runs to her, dropping everything for her, and she bites her lip to stop a smile from growing because now it’s  _him_ who is wanting. she finally has the power, tugging him along and dragging him to her, begging him to question why she’s there.

“you showed up.” he points at her, letting too much excitement slip out, breaking that classic harry cool he always tries to exude.   


they move together so naturally, almost walking into each other, almost close enough to stop. they’re like magnets, forced together, but she forces herself to stop. it feels like magnets too, when they aren’t met to match. that hard push refusing to touch, something between them stopping from ever really touching, from being together like they should be.

she looks away, trying to be coy as she hides her blushing cheeks. she may have showed up but the rest is up to him, he’s got to fight for her, prove himself worthy past the image in her head she has of him. “well who said i was playing, i could just be here to watch.”

“oh yeah, naturally.” he teases, going along with her, and she hates it so goddamn much. she hates how natural it is between them, like all her hypothesis were right about them. she hoped it would be bad, awkward, he’d make her hate him and she can go on with her life not having to worry about this idiotic crush.  


she finally looks at him, her eyes gleaming and a small smile peaking out, letting herself finally break down one wall and satiate a tiny part of her crush.

she doesn’t expect the solemn look on his face, how serious it falls, his dark eyes holding something deeper to them. he asks her “why’d you change your mind?” and she has a feeling there’s something more to that, and she has a feeling it just might break her heart.

his eyes haven’t moved from her, they’re glued on her, and she almost shivers at that. she’s glad her body is covered, that he can’t see the goosebumps on her arms and legs, and she doesn’t let him look back in her eyes because she knows they’ll say too much that she isn’t ready for him to know.

“i just needed a distraction.” she doesn’t lie, just doesn’t tell the full truth, and she wants to get a move on because if they stand there staring at each other she just might burst because it’s too much for her. “and you have a fast car.”  


she smiles back at him, telling him not to be so serious, she came to him for fun and he better not disappoint. he better not make her think like the rest, make her worry.

she gets in his car and feels bad, devious, wicked, and she doesn’t mind. it’s in the best way, makes her blood flow faster and her heart beat harder, being in harry binghams car makes her feel like another person. she wonders what cassandra would think, and for the first time she doesn’t care, let her think what she wants, allie is weaseling her way out of her grip and is in a fast car with the hottest boy in town. who could blame her for that?

and he shows off, trying to impress her, revving the engine a few times before they go, faster than she’s ever gone in a car before. he’s the perfect distraction, and he hasn’t disappointed her yet.

they move so fast she can’t think, her mind focused on the game and the boy next to her, sneaking peaks at his side profile and wanting to trace it with her hand. run her fingers through his hair and trace his nose, land on his lips and wait for him to kiss them. then kiss her. she sees it in slow motion, like some goddamn bad 80s rom com, where he turns to her with the moonlight shining on her face and sees her for the first time, and all he can do is kiss her to tell her how he feels.

but he keeps his eyes on the road, swerving to other streets as he follows her instructions, and they work so well together the smile can’t be wiped off her face.

the adrenaline pumps through her veins, it’s blinding, erasing the rest of the world from everything but this game. she’s too into it, too desperate for the distraction it brings, running in the street for that sweet release of her adrenaline build up and not even seeing the trouble coming her way. 

the same way she does’t see the worry in his eyes, or hear him try to stop her, or feel the way his heart stops while hers can’t stop beating.

she feels the impact then hears him screaming her name, calling to her like some godsend and bringing her out from the daze of the world around her. he grounds her, wakes her up again, and he’s gentle with her. his hands barely grazing her, gliding over her hip and it’s like some goddamn dream. she can even hear him whispering  _“i’m sorry, i’m sorry”_  and the image in her head shifts but in an even better way. 

she turns around laughing, “my heart is beating so fast.” and he’ll never know what she really means. she’s laughing at herself because how fast her heart is beating, because she knows she signed her name in the book of the beast and there is no going back. she laughs because her heart is beating because of his hands on her and his gentle whisper, and because she knows with every second she spends with him here she falls for him more and more and that just means it’s going to hurt even more when he breaks her heart.

she runs off, away from him, away from that same disappointed glare cassandra has in her eyes when she does something reckless. she doesn’t want to see her sister in his eyes, she wants to play his game instead.

-

once the game ends the real one begins, the true test, the after party.

she expects him to go his separate way, he is the host and that means he has a lot to do. set everything up, entertain people, make sure they’re having fun.

yet he doesn’t leave her side, leading her around his house with his hand on the small of her back and his eyes always trying to sneak a peek into her own. it’s silent looks met with silent smiles, and she thinks she finally understands what it is like to be kelly on harry’s arm.

he leads her to the pool and sets up a little spot just for them, not going in because she didn’t have her swimsuit. he even offered to take her back to her house to get one if she wanted, but she refused. she wanted to keep this night a good memory, something just for herself, going home for even a second would put a damper on that mood. her sister asking questions, her friends getting involved, a whole mass of people with that  _stare_ as she gets into harry’s car.

she’s fine sitting on the side of the pool watching everyone else have fun, especially with harry sitting right beside her.

“i’m surprised you came tonight, and that you’re here right now.” he tells her after they take a shot, drawing her attention from the couples in the pool back to him.  


“why?” she asks, though she already knows the answer.  


he shrugs, looking around at the crowd surrounding them before his eyes fall back to her, and she hates how goddamn handsome he is. “you’re cassandras sister, and her best friend, and she hates me. guess i thought you did too.”

she shakes her head, and after an entire day with him she’s finally gained the courage to keep her eyes glued to his. “we’re not the same person.”

“i know that.” he defends himself, but they both know it isn’t true.  


she tilts her head, eyes stuck on his, both of theirs saying so much. “no, you don’t.”

“you never seemed to like me very much.” he tries, but she knows the truth.

“cassandra always painted you out to be the bad guy, and i guess i just kind of followed her lead. now i realized i don’t really know you, and i think i should form my own opinion on who you are.” part of it is honest, but she hides the fact that he is so wrong. she’s always liked him, too much for what’s good for her, too much for what’s right.  


“and do you think that?” he asks, leaving her lost.  


“think what?”  


“that i’m the bad guy.”

she doesn’t respond right away, searching his dark eyes for an answer, thinking they’ll tell her all she needs to know. yet his eyes are asking the same thing, searching for the answer cuz she doesn’t even think he’s sure who he is in this role of his life. and for once she thinks she really  _sees_ harry, sees past what he wants everyone to see. the picture perfect popular boy, the flawless rich kid, the leading man in the movie of their lives. he isn’t all those things, he’s just a boy the same way she’s just a girl, looking for all the answers neither can give the other.

“i’m still trying to figure it out.” is the best she can get out, because as much as she wants to reassure him she can’t. one day doesn’t mean anything in her judgement of his character, though a part of her is hoping and praying he isn’t the bad guy.  


“i knew you two aren’t the same person. i know that.” he changes the subject, insisting his innocence, trying to prove he isn’t the bad guy after all. “you two aren’t anything alike you are...peculiar...and intense.”  


she doesn’t know how to take that, it’s not what she’d expected to hear and she doesn’t know what it means. she’s never heard those two words in a positive connotation, as a compliment, but the way he says it and the lingering look in his eyes tells her he means no harm. he means it in a good way.

neither of their eyes leave each other, and she thinks now for the first time he’s really  _seeing_ her too. like he finally knows who allie pressman is as her own person, and the way he looks at her now makes her want to run away and hide. despite all her longing she never prepared herself for this, she never thought it would happen. “thanks.” is all she can muster out, her eyes saying more than her words can.

her eyes flitter down to his lips and that’s all he needs to make his move, leaning in slowly till there was almost no space between them, giving her a moment to move away if need be. she stayed still, letting his lips press against hers for a second, and it’s so not what she expects.

she thinks harry bingham is an all in guy, go big or go home, but he kisses like it’s his first time and he’s nervous. like he’s scared she’ll hurt his feelings, like a child kissing his crush. he kisses her the way she’d kiss him, and she’s wanted this for so long that it hurts to remember that even when he kisses her like this it means so little to him.

kelly just broke up with him, he’s hurting and looking for a distraction for his pain. he’s looking for a rebound, and she fell perfectly into his lap.

she backs away slightly, enough for him to get the hint, and she’s searching his face as if to try and read his mind. she’s just now realizing he’s so emotive, shows everything he feels on his face making it so easy to read him. she can see it all, every thought floating in his mind. the confusion, the rejection, and lastly the hurt. he looks shy and embarrassed, so unlike the unbothered harry he always tries to portray. it just makes her like him more, it just makes her want to lean in and kiss him and tell him everything is fine, that she won’t hurt him like kelly did, that she is ready to give her heart to him.

but she’s smarter than that, and she has questions she wants the answers to too.

“what was that?” she asks and finally looks away from him, unable to hide her sly smile, unable to hide her blushing cheeks.  


he laughs a nervous little laugh, and he’s so much more sweet than she thought and she wondered what cassandra would think if she saw this side of him. would she still curse his name, slander him, detest him? or would she be able to understand why allie liked him so much, why he made her so weak?

“i don’t know.” it comes out as a whisper, hushed and quiet and only for her to hear, and he turns to her with a nervous smile and stuttering out his words, and despite her minor rejection of him he still looks  _excited_ , like he’s been wanting to do that as long as she has. “i just didn’t know you. like at all.”  


and as he leans in his eyes are telling her all she needs to know, that he wants to know her, and now it’s up for her to decide. let him have his way with her, kiss her, and break her heart? let her be the rebound, be with him for even one night, more than she ever could’ve hoped for.

and the thunder rumbles as if a sign from the gods, a tempest threatening her to make up her mind, because her only options are various forms of chaos and she must pick the way she wants to get hurt.

“we should go.” is all he says, taking her silence as a sign to give up, and the thunder as a way out.  


but she’s made up her mind, and there’s no changing it now. “we should go inside.”

and he looks down from the heavens that dropped him back to her, not expecting her words, not knowing how to respond other than a smile saying he’d love to.

they don’t need to say anything more as they slip inside, his hand loosely holding hers as he leads her up the stairs to his room, not grip needed because they both know the other won’t let go. their fingers touch, dance around with each other, and even just that slight skin on skin contact is electric.

he leads her to his room and doesn’t turn on the light, let them live in the darkness as he closes the door. he’s gentle and slow, and she thinks his hands are shaking when they go to cup her face, both hands holding her cheeks as he leans in to kiss her. he pauses, letting his eyes adjust to her face in the darkness as he sweeps them over her, checking every part of her face.

“are you sure you want this?”  


“yes.”   


he kisses her, slow, like it means the world to him to have her in his embrace. this time she really kisses back, and she lets him lead. she lets him guide her to his bed with soft kisses on her cheek and her neck, lets him strip her off her clothes and lets him whisper his kind compliments, let’s him rest his forehead against hers as they take it slow and she never thought she’d lose her virginity to harry bingham yet he treats her better than any other guy could. and she knows her feelings for him aren’t truly returned, not in the same way she feels for him, yet with the way he holds her as they have sex she thinks that maybe they could be, one day.

when they’re done they lay on their backs, his hand playing with her curls, and she can’t ignore how comfortable the silence is between them. they feel like old friends, old lovers, people who have fucked in a past life. like every incarnation of themselves have known each other in some way, so they don’t need to talk, because they have all the time in the world.

“that was...so great.” he mumbles out, and she knows he means it with the smile on his face and his gentle grip on her hair. she wants to lay here, fall asleep and let this night last forever. no responsibility, no cares, yet the world refuses to be that way. refuses to give her a break, to enjoy herself, it needs to give a cruel reminder as to where she is and what she has done.

the lights flicker on and off, and harry gets out of bed with a disappointed huff in his voice.

“i’ve got to go down and check what’s wrong, make sure everything’s okay.” he says as he puts his clothes back on. she stays where she is watching, trying to shut off her mind from going a mile a minute, from letting her think the wrong thing.  


“yeah go, i’ll be down in a minute.” she says, not ready to go down yet, not ready to be seen going down with him. people spread shit fast, and she doesn’t want cassandra to know.   


he’s putting his pants back on when she says that, putting up the zipper and smiling at her. he leans in to give her a kiss on the cheek, it’s awkward and strange and unnatural for both of them, and makes her realize just how naive they both are. he’s not much more experienced than she is, they both are clueless about how to do these things. “i’ll wait down there for you.”

she nods her head with a smile, watching him go before she gets dressed herself, unable to believe her clothes are scattered on harry binghams floor.

when she finally makes her way down he is sitting on the counter waiting for her like he said, smiling when he spots her walk up to him. she smiles and looks down, her nerves of what they just did finally getting to her, but his eyes and smile stays on her, looking at her like she’s so much more than she really is.

she is only half listening to everyone’s conversation about the flickering lights, rather looking at him and taking in all his glory. she thinks he’s the most handsome boy she’s ever seen, and for one night she could call him hers.

she doesn’t give in to the fear like everyone else, allowing herself to revel in the distraction he poses, ignoring as everyone runs out into the rain either home or to the hardware store.

“do you want to go?” he asks her, still sitting on the counter top but gently grabbing her hand with his once the house clears out, pulling her closer into his embrace.  


“where?” she asks, but the only thing on her mind is the way he’s looking at her, and his lips.  


“the hardware store.”   


she shakes her head, smiling as she holds back a small laugh. “i don’t need a flash light, we got some at home.”

he nods, and their eyes keep playing a little dance, moving between their lips and each others gaze, their minds replaying the events of that night over and over again.

“you can stay over if you want, there’s space in my bed.” he offers, and she questions his intentions. he got what he wanted out of her, she got part of what she wanted too, but she knows he isn’t over kelly after ten days and she knows he isn’t doing this because he likes her. he can’t like her, it’s only been a day.  


but she so badly wants to say yes, give herself this moment like she’s done so many times this night, say she did it once because she knows it’ll never happen again. she wants to say yes, but she can’t. “cassandra’s gonna worry if i’m not home, sorry.”  


he pulls her closer with their intertwined hands, enough where she stands between his legs and his hand drops hers to rest on her waist, keeping her in his warmth. “well for now stay with me, she can have you tomorrow but for now you’re still mine.”

_mine,_ she never liked that possessive shit, she never thought relationships should be about owning each other. when he says it though, she understands why the idea is appealing to so many people. to be someone elses, to be his, it warms her insides while he warms her outside, and she knows there is no future between them but she really wishes there was.

“who ever said i was yours?” she asked, negging him as she moves her head closer to his, lips grazing his.  


“we can be each others...just for tonight.” he kisses her, grip on her waist and neither realize the lights go out again while they’re entangled in each other. her hand in his hair, his hand brushing against her skin under her shirt, and she doesn’t mind being his for the night, as long as he is hers.  


they stay like that as their phones both ding, notifications going off, and they try to ignore it as long as they can but the constant ringing in their ears kills the mood. allie reaches for her phone first, turning around in his embrace to read her texts, not missing the way his arms wrap around her and his head rests on her shoulder. she doesn’t miss the way his lips brush against her cheek, the way he reads her texts from cassandra with her alerting them of an emergency, and she doesn’t miss the disappointed sigh they both share of their night being cut short. 

it’s raining outside but he insists on walking, and she doesn’t question why. she thinks it’s because he wants more time with her, but that’s wishful thinking on her part, but it doesn’t matter as they run under his jacket laughing at how ridiculous they must look. bumping into each other trying to stay dry, almost tripping as they steal glances, still in their own world until they reach those who remind them of who they are and who they should be to each other.

cassandra looks between them, her own sister coming with harry, and she can see the betrayal flicker through her eyes before she looks away. 

she doesn’t want to look again, she won’t let her shame her for what she did, because she has no regrets for it.

chaos envelops them and threatens to swallow them whole, and she hates the reminder that this night wasn’t anything real. that this world isn’t their own and the responsibilities never end.

she could be his for the night but when the sun comes out she will be back to what she’s always been, a shadow.


	3. but you had to have him (and so you did)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is shorter than the other chapters (not by much) because this was supposed to be apart of chapter two but then it would have been 10k words and i didn't want to put anyone through that so i separated them !! hope it isn't too messy and hope you enjoy!!

the chaos came quicker than any of them thought it would, so quick and so sudden and so rough, it was as if the people in the streets weren’t themselves. as if the rain falling had poisoned them, made them creatures of the night, only able to cause trouble.

allie knew this wasn’t the truth, but she wishes it was, wishes there was some excuse for the way they acted. it was better than just accepting that these people she had known her entire life were not what they seemed, that they were darker, crueler then she could ever have hoped for. it was animalistic, like their innate desire to wreak havoc could no longer be contained and it threatened to topple and take them all done.

it was good of cassandra to call this meeting for the girls, smart of her, yet a selfish part of allie wondered if there was another side to it all. a hidden meaning directed just for her, a personal warning to stay away from harry. she hadn’t told cassandra anything but she saw them come to the flame together, the way they huddled under the hoodie and stayed close even after. she knew her sister was suspecting, but she knew she wouldn’t ask anything about it either. not until she knew for sure, not until there was something really there to ask about. 

and sometimes allie’s mind still lurks on that night, when there isn’t anything to keep her occupied (though there always is). helping cassandra with the meeting, helping her come up with jobs, get everyone together in the church to announce the new rules and the way things are gonna go. 

she feels a sense of shame at his hesitation in agreeing to it, her eyes planted on him as she waits for his hand to go up, her stomach turning when he’s the last one to do it. she knows she isn’t responsible for his mistakes, she knows what they had was for a night and nothing more, and yet it hurts to see it. it hurts because it makes her question herself, her judgment and that the image in her head is so different from the way he is in this room that she questions which one is real. the boy from that night or the boy here, the one that contradicted cassandra and was so painfully selfish?

she couldn’t admit to herself that he might be both.

he raises his hand begrudgingly, and only then does she look away from him, and tries to forget it all.

- 

she thought that once she got him out of her system her crush would leave with it, like reality would hit her and say  _you got your moment, you lived it, time to move on_. that’d she’d realize it wasn’t that great, it wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be and she’d move on.

but she can’t move on, as much as she’d like to, the same way she can’t move on from the pain of cassandra not including her on the committee. it bites and hurts in a way she could never imagine, because it feels like where her loyalties lie do not lie back with her, and even her own sister sees her as nothing but her double.

and she’s screaming and crying at her sister and she doesn’t even seem to care, and allie hates this world so much because for as much as it gives it takes away even more because she’s never hated her sister but lately she’s starting to think she might. just a tiny bit, just for this day.

allie wants to run off and find harry, kiss him in the street and let everyone know just for it to go back to her sister, so she can feel that betrayal and find out from someone else like she did. know what it’s like to feel left out, hurt and manipulated, and like you don’t mean as much to the other as they do to you.

she’s smart though, she wouldn’t do that, because she may be mad now and she may be crying and hating cassandra but she knows things will be fixed soon. she can’t ruin their relationship, not here in this twisted place, not now when she needs her most.

and she never thought she’d be more excited to go to work than she is now because it beats being home while they fight and being left to her own devices. leaving her mind blank and allowed to flow with the worst, because even if she’s in a god awful hairnet and glaring at will’s back for making it on the committee when she doesn’t, she’d rather be counting plates and covering bread in garlic than thinking of all the shit that has managed to happen in such a short amount of time.

she wakes up early for her shift and rushes there before cassandra or any of her friends can stop her, and when she goes home she immediately takes a nap. she wants to avoid the world and the way it hurts, and the fact that the only one who seems to truly see her is herself.

and then there’s him, walking out like a godsend to throw off her tireless week that’s starting to feel like groundhog day. he comes like the devil and angel on her shoulder, representing too much for someone who should mean so little. but that night he claimed to see her, to know she isn’t cassandra, and right now she needs someone like that.

“hey.” he calls out to her, greeting her with a smile and a laugh, almost like he’s actually glad to see her. he saunters over to her quickly, and she can’t believe how naturally the smile on her face appears but this time she doesn’t fight it. “looking good.”  


“i dressed up just for you.” she exclaims, hand on her chest as a fake testament to her love for him, and he stops close enough to mean something but not close enough for anyone who walks by to notice. it’s all very strategic, very sly.   


“i’ll look like you soon enough.” he pushes her shoulder gently and his eyes are warm and kind, so different from that morning in the church with cassandra, and she doesn’t understand how he can be that way. so cruel to her sister, cold eyes almost dead, and so warm with her, so kind and alive.   


she strips herself of the hairnet, flipping her blonde curls from under it and handing it over to him. they’ve shared a bed, a hair net is nothing in comparison to that. “oh, well, then you should take this.”

he puts it on with a bow, a tuft of those black curls sticking out, and somehow even with that he’s so handsome. harry bingham looks like the type that can do no wrong but also is all wrong, an angel and devil in one, the forbidden fruit she has already taken a bite out of. 

“i’ve never wanted you more.” and while her voice reflects that it’s a joke only she knows it’s not, because more than ever she wants him to take her home and wrap her in his arms, kiss her until she forgets who she is and the troubles she has, make her not regret liking him the way she does. “are you going to prom?”  


he shrugs in response, and she sees the pain flicker in his eyes but he keeps his smile to her, and she’s glad she’s at least worth pretending. “not sure yet. don’t really have a date anymore.”

“you don’t need a date to go to prom.” she argues, it is the twenty first century after all.  


“do you have one?” he asks with the tilt of his head, and she wonders what game he is playing while he flirts with her but still longs for kelly.  


she shakes her head and scrunches her nose as she replies, “no, no one i’m really interested. plus this guy i slept with didn’t even think about asking me.”

his smile quirks up more, grows wider, even for a second as he laughs. the way he bounces into the rhythm of her joke so quickly proves her point that she could fall in love with him, the way he just gets her immediately, the way he plays along. “did you want him to?”

it’s her turn to shrug, look around the area as if she’s thinking, and part of her is. she truly is conflicted in her answer, because no matter what she knows the answer she’ll give him won’t be the truth but she doesn’t even know the truth herself. in some ideal world she’d love for him to take her, to slow dance in the middle of the dance floor and kiss at the climax of the song, but in the real world she knows dancing with harry bingham would shift too much in her life. too much has changed already, she can’t handle anything more despite how bad she wants it.

“not really.” it comes out in a teasing tone, hinting at him that a part of her wouldn’t be opposed, but it’d be best not to.   


“well maybe he’ll save her a dance.” his hands are in his pockets and he leans forward to almost whisper it to her, and she looks up at him with his hairnet on as he says it and gives him a look that says too much about how she sees it, how she feels.  


and she exposes too much unintentionally, three words shifting it all. “i’d like that.” no longer following their joke, their hidden meanings, and the scariest part is that she thinks he’d go running but he doesn’t. his face says something too and it’s like a book she’s too afraid to read.  


and for a second she thinks maybe her feelings aren’t one sided, not completely at least, because the way he looks at her runs a chill up her spine and the way he smiles makes her almost choke on her feelings and how strong they are. how badly they overwhelm her, and she sees his lips moving to say something she’s too afraid to hear so she runs. 

“i should go, um...” and she can’t even continue her sentence because she has no real excuse and she wants to take it back the minute she sees his face and the way it falls, the disappointment of her leaving. his begging eyes yearning her to stay, his fiddling hands reflecting that nervous boy she saw when he tried to kiss her, and for a second she worries it might be her who ends up breaking his heart and not the other way around.

she gives him her bullshit excuse of needing a nap and walks away as she says it, not being able to handle it, knowing if she sees him look at her like that she’ll give up and stay there for too long and reveal too much.

and she doesn’t miss the way he huffs away and rips the hairnet off, how his posture tilts into a defeated state as he walks away and she knows something is wrong. this new world is affecting all of them in such different ways, and she doesn’t know what weight is being held on harry’s shoulders but it looks like a heavy one.

but that’s no excuse, there’s a weight on everyone’s back, and they all just have to learn how to live with it now.

-

she really tries to have fun at prom, and she does for a while, but things just seem to refuse to go her way. her friends trickle out or find dates, and she’s still reeling from her fight with cassandra that has had no resolution in sight, and she hates feeling so alone in a room with almost everyone she knows. 

all she needs is a drink, and she rushes to the table before she even sees who is there, too blinded by her own pain to even see him. but she had seen him all night, the longing looks towards kelly as she danced with will, the pained expression and dejected features. that’s the girl he wants, she never expected to erase three years worth of a relationship for him, and yet it still hurts watching him watch her.

“you came.” is all she can say as she pours herself a drink, her mood almost as bitter and harsh as the whiskey sliding down her throat.  


“so did you.” he seems to be in the same mood as her, for entirely different reasons, and she has a feeling that is no coincidence.   


harry chuckles as he watches her down her drink with a scrunched expression of disgust, and offers her his own. she takes it and knows she should walk away and leave it as is, but she holds her place next to him because she’d rather wallow with someone else than alone.

“so...” he starts off, bringing her attention back to him and his monotone voice. “wanna dance?”  


“it’s probably simpler in the long run if we don’t.” and that might be the best decision she’s made in a while concerning harry, because he would lead her nothing but trouble. she let herself be his rebound girl for one night but she can’t do that to herself again, not when the pain he feels seems so much more deep, not when her and cassandra are already fighting. “and i’m not really in the mood.”

“yeah. me neither.” everything about him seems so off, his tone of voice and aura, and she’s too busy with her own load to try and carry part of his.  


she leaves him in the dust because she doesn’t know what else to do, she’s trying to find an adequate distraction but nothing is working. she drowns herself in her drink and in the crafts, and even dances with will but it doesn’t matter because one dance is done and she’s left alone again watching all the couples kiss.

she doesn’t care about that, she doesn’t want a relationship, not in this chaotic world they now are being forced to call home. she just hates feeling so alone, feeling so unseen and invisible. she’s gotten too good at that, and she isn’t sure what she wants because she wants to be seen but she doesn’t want the limelight. she wants to keep her place but she also wants more, and she doesn’t want to be here a second longer. 

allie knows she has to let things go, forgive cassandra and move on with her life. it’ll be easier then without all that rage, because she knows her sister is good to her and she knows she means no harm, and she swears that tomorrow morning they’ll talk and work it all out. allie will tell her she wants to be seen and cassandra will listen and maybe something will change but even if they don’t she really won’t mind, because she’s lived seventeen years like this and she can live some more, because right now isn’t a time to be selfish and she needs her sister now more than ever.

but she’s going to be selfish for one last night, she’s going to be mad and she’s going to make bad decisions because she deserves at least that, the freedom to do so. tomorrow is a new day but tonight is still today, and today she can be as mad as she wants and she plans to be until it burns out.

harry is sitting alone at his table with that solemn look on his face that she’s so tired of seeing and she doesn’t hesitate to walk right up to him as fast as she can. “get up, we’re going.”

he looks up at her, eyes distant and looks so confused, something she can’t really blame him for. he has no idea what is going on in her head the same way she has no idea what’s going on in his, but she has an idea. she doesn’t care though because tonight she’s thinking of herself, and she knows he wouldn’t mind some company much either. 

“what are you talking about?”

her face doesn’t change, doesn’t shift with a smile or a smirk as she responds. “i want you to take me back to your place before any of your new roommates get back to see you take me there.”

he knows what that means and she sees him think it over in his mind, but it doesn’t take long for him to get up and put his hand on the small of her back, leading her out the doors into the darkness where the two reside in the hollow of their mind, but at least tonight they will reside there together.

“we never had our dance.” he whispers in her ear as they walk out.  


“we can have this instead.” she turns her head and whispers back, getting in his car as he speeds back home, and for once she doesn’t mind how reckless it all is. she finally takes a good look at him as he drives, his hair slicked back all the way, trying to tame his loose curls to fit in one place the same way cassandra is trying to change him to fit in with their rules. a part of her feels bad for him, that he has to shift everything he’s ever known, but a bigger part of her knows he has to get over it because it’s what’s right.  


an even bigger part of thinks more of how she wants to make a mess of his hair with her hands carded through it while he has his way with her.

when they get inside neither of them turns on a light, and the house is empty and quiet and all theirs, and it’s nothing like their first time together. their kisses are frantic and sloppy as they walk up the stairs, bumping into the wall as they try to strip him of his jacket and unzip her dress. this time both are using each other in a more desperate way, hoping the others kiss will erase all their problems and pain but with the knowledge that it won’t.

they’re holding each other in a tight embrace as they fall on his bed together, fighting to fully crawl on while still pressing breathy kisses to any part of the others skin. she can’t believe she’s doing this again, and even with her clothes stripped and his lips pressing kisses against her chest her mind is racing wondering if he thinks it’s kelly, wishes it’s kelly, and she pulls him up to kiss her on the lips before her mind can continue its brutal attack and make her cry.

and it’s different than their first time again for a reason she can’t understand, because he’s on top and inside of her and caressing her face and looking at her with a stare she can’t read and her mouth is agape with muffled gasps because  _this_ is the one thing she didn’t expect. she doesn’t expect him to hold her so close and to press gentle kisses against her skin and look her right in the eye and take care of her properly. it’s like something has changed in these few days and she doesn’t know what, but she puts her hand on his face and holds him close too because she wants to treat him as good as he’s treating her.

when they’re done she gets up and slips into her dress, but he slips his hand into hers and gives it a gentle pull. “stay.”

she doesn’t expect that either, and she turns around to see him looking like a god with his hair back to its natural curls and his body calling her to cradle in his warmth. and his eyes seem so young, younger than she’s ever seen before, and she wonders if she’s ever seen him so vulnerable before.

she’s no idiot though, and she won’t let things get too far. “you don’t have to pretend, harry.”

his thumb is rubbing the inside of her palm and he’s laying his head on his pillow, looking up at her with the eyes of a confused babe. “what do you mean?”

“that this is something more than it is. that we are. that you aren’t wishing kelly had been with you tonight.” it’s too late to play games, and they’re too old for it now.   


his hand in hers goes limp, and she can’t look to see his reaction because she knows a part of her hurt him, and she doesn’t want to feel that guilt.

she looks forward at the blank wall, their hands limp but still together, barely touching but still searching for each other's warmth. “it’s more complicated than that...you don’t get it. i like your company.”

it’s like he twisted the knife in her heart and pushed it forward, and she doesn’t know why but she starts to tear up. he doesn’t mean to hurt her, and she doesn’t know what she should expect, and she hates not being able to understand her own feelings. “i’ve got to go.” she chokes out, trying to keep her voice steady, trying not to let him hear it crack.

“stay...please.” his voice is a silent beg, but all she can do is grasp his hand and give it one last squeeze before sitting up and letting it go again.  


“i’ll see you around.” she wants to say they can talk then, but what is there to talk about? she’s overthinking it, looking too far into something that isn’t there. two nights mean nothing, not to him, he doesn’t know what he’s saying. she doesn’t know what he’s saying, and that’s the scariest part.  


she grabs her shoes and leaves before he can say anything else, trying to sneak out of the full house undetected and into the dark street where she can not be seen. and she’s scared because she’s had a realization about herself, and she thinks it ruins everything she once thought.

because she’s tried so hard to get into his head, rationalize him, see and feel what he’s thinking to the point where she knew what he  _was_ thinking. or at least she thought she did, but she was so wrong, and she doesn’t mind being wrong but she hates the not knowing. she hates not knowing what is in his head and what he’s thinking when he holds her in his arms and she hates that everything she once thought might be wrong because it means she has to continue on blind and she doesn’t know how to do that.

stray tears drop down her face and her body shakes in the cold of the night when she reaches her house, not a light left on, and she tiptoes to her room so as not to wake anyone and worry them with the red on her eyes and the blush on her cheeks.

she changes into her pajamas and curls in an almost fetal position on her bed, wanting to go back to simpler times and sleep everything up, wake up and these past few weeks were nothing but a dream. 

she pulls the blanket up and wipes her tears away, and thinks she’ll tell cassandra about harry tomorrow. she can’t continue on with secrets, and she can’t continue on with the not knowing.

and most of all, she can’t continue on without her sister, but she might have to learn how to.


	4. the monument of a memory (you tear it down in your head)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was on vacation in the middle of writing this so halfway through the writing and vibe and everything just feels different. the first half isn't the best in my opinion but i think it gets better towards the end since my mind had more of a break. either way this isn't my favorite but i hope you like it anyway!! also warning like all my stuff this is unbetad but this is probably the worst so sorry for any mistakes i'm too tired to even do a basic editing whoops

she falls asleep crying for harry and wakes up crying for cassandra, and she isn’t even sure if she’s said a word but her throat is raw from her screams and sobs. 

they didn’t even have to tell her, not really, her gut feeling telling her something was wrong the minute she saw gordie crying in cassandra’s room. all he had to do was look in her eyes and she knew, she knew what had happened and from there it’s all black. 

she thinks she screamed, that she collapsed on the floor and woke everyone up. or at least will, because she thinks he’s the one who picked her up and carried her to bed and brought her food and water when she wouldn’t stop crying until she fell asleep once more.

and when she wakes up again it’s like a switched flipped inside of her, because now she’s silent. she sits still and stares at the blank wall ahead of her and doesn’t make a noise, and the tears flow down her cheeks and she doesn’t even realize she’s still crying until she feels one tear drop onto her hand. all her friends are crying around her and telling her it’s okay, that they’re there for her, and holding her hand and bringing her soup but she can’t even move.

she’s choosing to feel numb because if she doesn’t she’ll feel like a monster, and she’ll scream once more but not for her sisters death but for how she treated her the last few days she was alive. at that point they weren’t allie and cassandra, they were strangers because of some ridiculous shit she let herself get hurt over, and she can’t believe that their first major fight did not end in a resolution but her planning her sisters eulogy. 

all she can think about is things she would’ve done differently had she known. she would have forgiven her sooner, she would have talked to her, she would have told her what she was hiding and who it was she really liked. she would rather take her disappointed glare than her dead eyes any day.

she has no part in the funeral planning, they try to get her to help but she can’t do it, she can’t take charge and help them decide how to say goodbye. she isn’t ready to say goodbye, and she’s pushing it as far back as she has to until goodbye is all she can say.

becca helps get her ready for the funeral, she picks out her clothes and lays them on allie’s bed and starts a shower for her. she tells her it’s what they have to do, and she’ll be waiting downstairs to take her.

she can’t believe that with everything else this is her life now.

sitting in the front pew at her sisters funeral alone, her parents aren’t there, and she’s the only one in her immediate family now. the only pressman, she has family, she has sam and campbell but it isn’t the same. none of this is the same.

and when she hears will yelling she doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is towards, she doesn’t want to turn around. she knows it’s him, and her heart aches and she blames herself even more because that night she was with him and not her sister. the only person she is mad at is herself, none of her pain goes towards him, not today.

“let them stay.” her monotone voice echoes through the church as she says it, her head staying forward but everyone knows what she means and who she is talking to. will moves back and sits next to her and she knows he has questions but he is smart enough to know not to ask.   


her entire life she always had cassandra’s death in the back of her mind, always worrying that one day her heart would just give up and she’d be holding her hand in a hospital bed saying goodbye. she knew it would happen one day, she dreaded it but waited, prepared for it. she never could’ve prepared for this, and she thinks the cruelest part is that god made her worry about all that for nothing. worry about her heart when it would be a gun that took her out. she never saw that coming. she never thought she’d have to.

she didn’t prepare any words, she couldn’t bring herself to, and instead she cries out and begs. “who did this?” she screams. “who shot my sister?” her friends guide her away, and it feels like the tears never stop flowing and they never will. “i needed her.”

-

she hates going out, even going downstairs. there is no break, no release from what had happened. her friends don’t act like her friends, they act like business partners asking her about a job she doesn’t want. they tell her things she isn’t ready to hear, and she can’t go on a walk because the whispers are so loud and they all have to do with harry.

everyone thinks he did it, she can hear will talking to the guard when she sits on the stairs about it and when she goes to pick up her food that’s all anyone says. 

she’s the only one who knows it isn’t true, but just hearing it hurts because it’s like they all know. they know what she has done and they want to hurt her for it, blame her, torture her with the fact that she was with the boy who hated her sister so much that people think he would kill her.

a part of her argues that they don’t know him at all, that he is gentle and kind and could never do that.

then she remembers she doesn’t really know him either, she doesn’t think anyone really does, not even himself. 

so she stops going out, she can’t stand to hear their voices in her head anymore, and will brings back food from the cafeteria when he comes home and no one bothers her anymore. they’ve taken the hint, and they’re scared of how cold her grief is. they worry she is like a bomb, ticking until she bursts, or until she fizzles out into nothing.

the only chaos she knows is the one inside, pounding in her head and beating in her heart, completely unaware of the fact that her classmates are slowly losing their minds. the chaos outside of people going feral, their fear driving them mad, and it’s better she doesn’t know. she might give up.

the only person she can stand to talk to is gordie, he doesn’t pull back any punches. he doesn’t treat her like a child, like all she is is her emotions. he answers the questions she has and tells her the truth, and it motivates her to go on. she needs to know than be left in the dark, only then she can try to understand it all, only then she can try to move on.

and the only person that really helps is grizz, in his silent wisdom and support, the way he gently hands her a note and gives her a tea like he understands what she is going through and what she needs. he doesn’t push and he doesn’t pry, and she wishes the rest would take a note from him and do that to. not ask too much, not leave her completely alone, just be there if she needs in the way she needs.

but you can’t ask too much of people, she knows this, they are all as naive as her. they are all children thrust into a world they were not ready for, and soon enough they will all wield the age of those in war. that is what they will be, children of war, drafted without their consent into the battlefield. the only people they must fight is themselves and each other, because every enemy is human, and a part of that will always lie in yourself too.

and then they ask her the unthinkable. they ask her to take cassandras role, to take over, to be in charge. they ask the girl who wasn’t even on the committee of making decisions to now lead it. she can not believe it, it’s too soon, and she always preferred being backstage than in the light. she can’t understand why they would ask this of her, why they would torture her with even the thought of that.

she can’t understand that even her own friends see her as nothing but her sisters duplicate, the back up to use in case something happened to cassandra. 

she can’t believe that no one really sees her for her.

“you realize how fucked up this is, right?”   


she walks down the stairs anyway.

“if you’re gonna put this on my shoulders you better be there with me for every minute, every second, of every day by my side.” she is giving it all up for them, giving her identity up because no one else was willing to do that, and for that sacrifice they better fucking be there for her. support her, protect her, because they can’t give her the power then leave her when she needs them most. she won’t let that happen.  


she looks at their solemn faces, and she knows they don’t really want her. they’re just scared, and she’s the best of the worst options they have. they’re scared and she’s numb, but she can’t have anyone else feeling the way she feels. so she’ll take that role, protect them from the metamorphosis she will go through, she’s already going through.

she’s already taking a bullet, one right in the heart of who she once was. this is another goodbye she has to say, because to do this she must become someone new entirely. not allie, not cassandra, someone else. and she can never go back to who she once was, not once she puts on that crown and becomes queen.

“fuck all of you, and i mean that.”  


-

when she goes to stand in front of them all gordie and will stand behind her, the guard in front, and everyone in between. she must get used to this position, this is her throne now.

she is brief and to the point, and doesn’t speak in the voice of a leader. she isn’t one yet, but she’s learning.

and her eyes keep ghosting to harry, his head down as he looks to the floor. 

he never looks back up to her.

she wonders what he’s thinking.

-

allie doesn’t think of harry once in the time that has passed, her mind always on haywire, always being used and abused. everyone comes to her with questions, wanting answers they know she doesn’t have, wanting something from her she can’t give. and she’s scared, scared they’ll do to her what they did cassandra, scared they’ll come against her as she sends the guard out to collect guns and raid peoples houses.

it only gets worse when they arrest dewey, and she can’t even give herself time to think  _why would harry know about this_ because they’re putting pressure on her to figure it all out. figure out where to put him, how to handle him, and if worse comes to worse how to punish him.

he’s locked in a wine cellar in another house but it feels like he’s in the same room with her at all times, her mind never off the boy who possibly killed her sister. she tries to work it out, how it could’ve been done, how he could be so evil. she sees it in gordie’s eyes, he’s trying to do the same thing. she doesn’t think either of them will ever get the answers they need.

even with him locked up things aren’t much better, because everyone has an agenda of their own and she feels like the only one without a plan. clark beats the crap out of him, she has no control even over her own people and she has to hide her hands behind her back every time she talks to someone so they don’t see the way they shake.

she doesn’t think of harry until he’s sitting next to her at the trial and it takes everything in her not to break down, not to start crying because she could fall for him and now he sits here apart of her sisters murder trial. he wished her sister dead and fucked her in the same night, and he can’t even look at her sitting in the judges chair and she can’t even look at herself in the mirror anymore either. 

so little time has passed and yet she’s already starting to be unable to recognize herself, already feeling as if her dna was changing and creating a new version of herself that can handle this. 

her dna isn’t evolving fast enough though, because she still isn’t ready.

on the outside she wonders what she looks like, what they all think. can they see the tears forming in her eyes, the way she tries to hold them back and not show any weakness? or do they only see how cold her face is, how stiff, how so little emotion peeks through it?

can he see past the wall she is putting up for everyone else, is harry even looking, even trying to see? a part of her hopes he sees it all, sees the pain bubbling inside of her partly because of something he said. that he is playing a part in her sorrow.

another part of her hopes he doesn’t see it at all, doesn’t see her weaknesses, doesn’t see how he affects her. she wants him to be cursed with the not knowing, the same way she is cursed with not knowing the full story of what happened to her sister. 

she also pities him, because just like her she knows he will never be the same person he was before all this now. there is no going back from this, changing his words or being looked at the same way from their peers. they are both trapped in a change they want no part in, moving too quickly their hearts and souls can’t keep up.

she can’t keep walking on that yellow line in the middle of the street, trying to balance it all, trying to have it all. she has to make a choice of who she wants to be and where she wants to stand, and that choice has already been made for her.

allie is starting to see harry was walking that line with her, tied between the two worlds and the crippling options of who he wants to be. he has to make that choice all on his own though, where he will fall on the sides of those lines, or if he will follow that line until the street cuts out, and by then there is no going back. there is no choice, by then you are in a league of your own and left alone.

despite all he has done she hopes he chooses the right side to fall on, and she hopes he gets off that line.

stay on the good side of that line, stay innocent, stay pure and clean and the same boy you were before all of this. evolve to fit with what has changed but change for the better, because when you cross that line into the unknown ahead of you there is no going back.

she’s crossed that line.

she crossed that line when she decided to execute him. she crossed that line when she put that gun in her hand and against his head and felt it kick her back as she pulled the trigger.

there is blood on her hands and that blood equals power, but the price is not worth it because she can give up her power but she can never wash that blood off her hands. she can never forget what she has done, what they all did.

that’s not the part she hates the most, that she helped in killing a man, but that they made her and yet blame her for it all.

they all sat there, her friends, her family, her guard. they all sat there and chastised her for taking so long, rejected all her other ideas and pushed her into a corner where all that was left was death. they made her kill, they begged her to kill, but when the time came they were filled with disgust. they let go of the gun, they didn’t take any responsibility. 

it’s easier to make decisions without the consequences, to have your way without worrying about what will come with it, without the guilt or the masses hating you. 

she was the face for their shame, for their pain. she was their queen and their punching bag. she was their doll they could use for power plays and berate when she didn’t do what they wanted.

but that blood was power and they will never have the power she has, and they will never control her this way again. 

part of her hopes they never make it home, because for her it will never be the same. everyone else will adjust after awhile, go back to normal, tell their parents the crazy stories and how they had to pick up trash for the entire town or serve meals. 

she can’t do that, she can’t move on and change. she can’t walk down the hallways and be a teenager after the things she has done, she can’t tell her parents how she pulled a trigger and saw the blood drip from that boys head. she can’t go to the movies with her peers without them whispering about what she has done.

there is no adjusting for her, there is no going back. they have molded her into something she never wanted to be, and there is no going back.

none of them talk after that, they walk in silence back home and they don’t say a word. they eat in silence. they sit in silence. some can’t stomach it and go to bed, try to forget, try to hope the next day is better than this. 

the rest wallow in it. they sit in their silence and none can speak because their thoughts are too loud. their silence says enough and one word could shatter them all.

they sit in the dark too. it’s like they are all invisible to each other, sitting in a different room in a different darkness, but apart of them shares it all none the less. they sit together in their silent darkness because it is better than sitting apart, and because no one will know that darkness better than each other.

then their bubble is broken. he breaks their bubble, and maybe this really is some shakespearean play because harry walks in like some tragic reminder of the idiocy of her own heart. he doesn’t even have to say anything and she feels like she’s been punched in the gut, like she’s choking on her shame and her pain and her broken heart, and none of that pain is real but her eyes tear up like it is. 

“hey allie,” harry starts, and through the corner of her eye she can see him stalking closer, on edge, walking on eggshells as he nears her. “allie.”  


“what do you want?” she has no time to pretend everything is normal, fine, for small talk. she needs to know what he has to say and he needs to say it quick before she screams in front of everybody. before they can hear the anguish of her broken heart in the way her screams echo at his voice and the death of her sister and all that has happened in just a few days.   


“can we talk?” she’s never heard him so soft spoken. his voice once radiated the confidence and power he had in his past life. his voice was one that radiated pride, it echoed in the hallways for everyone to hear. it told you everything you needed to know about him. he was the king, he was in charge, he was the one you wanted to be.  


now it was meek and it was weak, it was pathetic. it was the voice of someone with no friends, who sat alone at lunch and whispered in fear someone might actually hear them once and judge them. it was filled with shame, and possibly showed the most true thing about harry. it was the voice of someone who didn’t know who they were and didn’t know their place in the world.

allie once thought harry was everything, flawless, perfect, no worries in his life. he was unbothered, unfazed, that no one could touch him. campbell’s words ringed in her ears and while she never trusted him she knew he was right about this. harry was scared of everything, he was scared of the entire world. before he knew how to hide it, he was an actor after all, and at birth he was given his role and lines and he knew how to play it. it was all bullshit, because beneath it all this was who he truly was. with his role stripped away he is just a shell, just a boy. his crown is broken and his confidence shot, and yet she knows he is still someone she can fall for despite it all.

“not here i mean.” he struggles out in her silence. “just us.” and she knows for the both of them that has another meaning than anyone in the room could understand. they now share a bond just between them, and she almost laughs out loud at how this is what it takes for her to get that.  


she doesn’t say anything as she gets up and walks outside, still not able to let her eyes meet his, not even able to look at his silhouette. she walks out in silence and if he’s smart he’ll follow her, because this is the only chance he’ll get.

allie stands on the porch and nods at grizz to go inside, to leave them alone. he can’t fight her, not after what happened today, so he leaves them alone.

her eyes are filled with tears she refuses to let fall, her vision blurry. she could look up at harry and still not see him at all, but even his blurry figure would be too much for her. she looks at her feet and she looks at the street, waiting for dewey to come out of the woods and get his revenge. she hopes he does, drags her with him to hell, in her guilt she wonders if that’s where she belongs.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry for what happened and for what i said. i never meant for...” she can’t even fully listen to his speech, too busy trying to keep in the tears and wonder if he wrote that himself. did kelly come and help him find the words? did campbell? or did he get it all on his own.  


either way it didn’t matter. words wouldn’t do anything for her now, they wouldn’t bring back her sister or wipe the blood of her hands, and they surely wouldn’t make her the girl she once was. no matter how sweet or sad or pretty they were, the words disappeared with the wind and did nothing. they were vapor, they were dust.

her chin is trembling as she holds back the tears, but she forces herself to speak. she wants meaningless words too, even if her voice shakes and breaks and holds no real ground. she wants her pretty words to fly into the stars and mean nothing like his. cassandra was always the actress but for now she is the star in this cruel play they are acting in, and she’ll read her lines because there is nothing else for her to do.

“you remember how i said i was still trying to figure it out? if you were the bad guy. i think i did. i finally figured it out.” she starts, looking down at her foot as it shakes with all the feelings vibrating inside of her.  


“yeah?” is all harry can choke out, and she thinks he might cry too.  


she finally looks up, she finally forces herself to. “you’re not. you’re not the bad guy. you’re just an idiot. you had it all so good before, you could say and do whatever you wanted and not have to deal with anything for it. i can’t blame you for that, that everyone let you get away with that, that you never had to deal with any responsibility or consequences. you never learned how important your words can be. i don’t think you’re a bad guy, but i don’t think you’re a good guy either. and i think that might be even scarier. with a bad guy you know what to expect, and they know who they are. you, you don’t know anything. you don’t know what you want to be or what you mean to say. you don’t know how to be good or bad. you just know how to fuck up. but you can’t anymore, you have to decide who you’re going to be cuz you can’t just pretend anymore. not here. not now.”

he nods, and now he’s looking down at his feet and he’s feeling the shame and she wishes he could see the blood that makes her hands itch. she wishes he could see what his words did and she wishes he could see she isn’t the girl she once was.

she wishes he could’ve been better, because her heart still pounds in her chest just looking at him and she should hate him but she can’t. she can’t even blame him for this, he’s already blaming himself enough.

he is like a mirror to her pain, almost the same but not quite, switched, opposite. she is the trauma, he is the guilt. she is the result, he is the cause. she is the future, he is the past.

he walks away with his head down in shame and she watches till she can’t see him anymore. when she goes inside she goes straight to her room, doesn’t say a word to anyone. she locks the door too so will can’t get in.

the only person she lets in in grizz, she’s mad at him but she understands at the same time. he’s the only one in this new world who can make her feel at peace, who when he speaks she thinks it’s truly worth listening to. he’s the only one who doesn’t make her feel manipulated all the time, the only one who actually tries to comfort her. 

she can’t even look at will the same anymore. what he did to her was so much worse than what anyone else could have. he was her best friend, the person she trusted most, and he made her kill someone and he made her do it with no regard for her feelings and no remorse for the pain she felt. she never realized how heartless he could be.

harry didn’t mean what he said, that was his problem.

will meant it all, even the bad, and that’s what’s wrong with him.

she shuts the door and closes them all out, for the first time in awhile wanting to truly be alone.

nothing can be the same anymore, she must embrace that.


End file.
